


We Wake Eternally

by EmeraldHeiress



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Infanticide, Omega Anakin Skywalker, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Slavery, non-graphic childbirth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26532235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress
Summary: The stale scent of old dust and wet earth permeated the duracrete walls of the abandoned building he had chosen to den in. It wasn’t warm and it wasn’t clean but it was safe.It had been the best of the few options he had. The onlyrealoption available.The only chance he had.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 45
Kudos: 274
Collections: Tales From the Attic





	We Wake Eternally

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loosingletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/gifts), [AlabasterInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlabasterInk/gifts).



The stale scent of old dust and wet earth permeated the duracrete walls of the abandoned building he had chosen to den in. It wasn’t warm and it wasn’t clean but it was safe.

It had been the best of the few options he had. The only _real_ option available.

The only chance he had.

Anakin sunk his teeth down on his lip, tasting the blood from where he’d already bitten through, and groaned as his stomach tightened and clenched again. Sweat beaded on his brow. He couldn’t help the welling of tears in his eyes, no matter how much he tried. No matter how much the mantra he’d grown up with repeated at the back of his mind.

He’d never felt pain like this before in his life.

A part of him, a desperate tiny part that still had hope — a part that still _wished_ — swore he would never feel pain like this again, no matter how much his mate begged.

But he knew at the heart of him that it didn’t matter. His choices were no longer his.

~~A part of him wondered if they ever really had been. If he had ever _really_ been free. He knew enough now to know that freedom was a mindset as much as a state of being. Had he ever been anything other than a slave? ~~

They hadn’t been since that mission on Zygerria went sideways. He had gone undercover as a slave. Then he had been hastily sold and shipped off-planet.

That mission… he wished they had never heard of it.

But there had never been another option, not for Anakin. He would never, could never, let anyone else play that role. Condemn another person to experience what he had lived the first nine years of his life.

Obi-Wan had hated it but...

Fresh off his heat and highly protective of his padawan, his alpha mate knew better than to press the issue with him. No matter how much he wanted to protect Anakin himself, he couldn’t dissuade him. He couldn’t dispute that Anakin knew what he was doing, that he was in the best position to come out the other end unharmed, and that Ahsoka was not.

That she wasn’t something Anakin was willing to risk.

They had never expected their ruse to be seen through so quickly or so thoroughly. He had walked straight into their hands.

Anakin knew his price. He always had. The price of himself, his mate, his padawan. Calculating the cost of those around him was practically an instinct — born of caution and not easily abandoned, even once he’d been freed. It was important to keep track of; to know when your price was too much or too little.

He had known that he was worth half a fortune to the right owner. Apparently, the Zygerrians had known that, as well. Too sweet a deal for the _wakamancha kung_ to let pass by.

Anakin wondered, somewhere at the back of his mind, how long it had taken Obi-Wan and Ahsoka to realize he was gone. He hoped his capture hadn’t been too much of a detriment to the mission.

He hoped that his small pack was safe.

It had been months since then and so much had happened. He wasn’t even sure what planet he was on. Only that it was hot and humid and _so far away_.

Were they still looking for him? ~~Had they even looked at all?~~

Another wave of pain washed over him and he struggled to hold back a cry.

It was time. The pups were coming now.

A whimper forced its way from his throat as he bore down. The next hour and half a blur of agony and blood and misery as he fought to keep his screams in his throat and bring his children into the world.

He had no water. No blankets. No help. Only a couple of torn sheets and an old knife carefully sharpened in the dark of the night. He hoped what he had been able to scurry away in preparation was enough. That he could clean the mess and the pups. That he could give them the peace they deserved.

A spot on the back of his shoulder flared with heat — in warning. Pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

The place he’d chosen to den was at the edges of the chip’s limits. The furthest reaches he was allowed to go. He knew he didn’t have much time before they discovered him gone and either activated it or sent someone for him.

If he was _lucky_ , he had until morning.

But this close to delivering… They wouldn’t take the chance that he would return empty-handed.

_The Desert granted peace to her children._

He bit back another exhausted sob as he carefully cleaned little fingers and little toes. A tiny baby boy and baby girl. Omegas, like him. Anxiety turned in his stomach, mixing with that dark shadow of slave’s understanding. He couldn’t — _wouldn’t_ — subject them to the same life he was born into.

Especially not as omegas.

He could never condemn them to suffer like that. To suffer as he had.

Trembling fingers wrapped around the hilt of the knife. He carefully severed and tied their cords, heedless of the sluggish way he was still bleeding. Anakin lamented the act of separating the twins from himself. From each other. They were a part of him and always would be. A part of themselves. To sunder that seemed almost profane.

But soon… Soon they would be together again.

He cradled them both to his chest, heedless for once of the tears trailing down his cheeks. There wasn’t a lot of time but maybe... he could have these few precious moments.

Desperately Anakin wished he could feel them — that he could feel anything in the Force. The warmth of their presence brushed at the very edges of his senses but the collar around his neck, locked tight for the last eight months, — since Zyggeria — kept him from sensing more.

He hoped, at least, they could feel each other. They were so _quiet_.

He had never heard newborn pups so quiet.

Gently, Anakin bent down and swiped a cheek over the head of the male, sharing his scent as he whispered a name into blonde hair, still tacky with the remnants of drying blood and afterbirth.

“ _Luke_.”

The word was soft as a prayer and just as heavy on his tongue. A wish and a benediction. A Tatooine name with a Stewjoni twist and a meaning as old as the Desert it came from. A name of hope and freedom.

He turned his head to his daughter and did the same.

“ _Leia_.” The song in the wind and the mother of the night.

His pups deserved their names.

Holding them to his chest, Anakin closed his eyes and _wished_. Wished for the time when he curled up with his mate in their nest after a mission. Obi-Wan reading in his soft voice as gentle fingers ran through Anakin’s hair. The alpha curled protectively around him as he slept.

Anakin could see Luke and Leia there, tucked into their sides. Warm and safe and cared for, their father watching them with glowing eyes.

Their mating hadn’t been intentional or traditional. An accident of circumstance but one, Anakin thought, they didn’t regret.

Obi-Wan would have loved the chance to be a father.

He could see it, in his mind’s eyes. The look on his mate’s face if he had gotten the chance to tell him. The worry and fear would come first. The middle of a war was never the best time for pups but Anakin’s biology being what it was sometimes medications don’t work correctly. It wouldn’t be the first time something went wrong.

Obi-Wan would worry and fret. But Anakin would be able to see the shine. The warmth and wonder in his mate’s Force presence. The growing glow of happiness and love as the pups grew in Anakin’s womb and began to reach out. As the bonds formed between them.

He had deserved that.

 _They_ had deserved that.

And his children had deserved to be free. Not to be born into slavery like their bearer.

Little faces rooted in his chest. Hungry and scenting the milk in the air and his body’s desire to feed them. But he couldn’t. If he did, he’d never be able to do what he needed to.

Never be able to let them go.

And he loved them so very much already to not let them go.

_They were so quiet._

Anakin wondered if they knew the turmoil that roiled in his heart and his stomach. If they understood the choice that he had already made.

He wondered if they would curse him for it.

A memory floated across his mind, hazy with time and pain still cramping low across his belly.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen on Tatooine. His mother’s face intent as she prepared the water. He remembered asking her, watching her strain the tincture of root for the neighbor’s daughter, slated to be sold to a bordello the following day. He had asked her if she had ever thought to do the same for him.

He remembered his voice had been very small, and the fear turning in his heart.

She had stopped what she had been doing and knelt next to him, taking his hands in hers and looking seriously into his eyes. She had told him that if Gardulla had not ordered her watched she would have smothered him as he drew his first breath. That she would have granted him that mercy, even at the breaking of her heart, if she could have. She told him that he had drunk the root tea twice and still woken both mornings. That she would try again.

And he had been grateful to know that he was so loved.

_Freedom in Death._

The words were barely a whisper in the air as Anakin’s strength waned.

If he was going to do it, he needed to do it now, while he still could. The sheet underneath him was growing steadily more red with his blood and Anakin felt confident that the three of them weren’t going to be separated for very long.

Part of him was grateful. He was so tired. So _very_ tired.

He curled his body around the twins, pressing delicate kisses to their foreheads as his vision swam — with tears or blood loss, he wasn’t sure — and steeled himself.

Footsteps echoed on duracrete.

His heart skipped a beat and adrenaline flood his veins

 _No_.

No, it was too soon!

He should have had at least another hour before they sent someone after him. Despair washed through him. This was all wrong. He was too late.

He should have had time! The time to free his children.

Time to _save_ them.

Memories of pups in chains flitted through the back of his mind. Little boy's with Luke's blond hair. Little girls with Leia's nose. The omega glanced around blinking to clear his vision as much as he could but there was nothing he could do. Maybe… Maybe if he…

A hand wrapped around the hilt of the kitchen blade. The only thing between the hunters and his pups. The scent of blood and pain hung in the air. There was nowhere to go. No way to hide.

They were trapped.

A growl built in the back of his throat, stirring from that deep primal part of him that had always come too quickly for the Council’s liking. It echoed through the building.

The footsteps paused. Then, the pace increased.

Anakin shifted, trying to move into a more defensive position; trying to protect the pups with his body but agony ripped through him. He was too weak. Too injured. He could feel the strength draining from him bit by bit.

Lips and teeth clamped down over a snarl of desperate denial.

At least, if he couldn't free them, he needed to be there to help them! To protect them! He —

The scent of alpha began to grow as the steps came closer. There were… so many of them. Hunters. Light bounced off the walls, bringing the room into sharp relief. Half blinding Anakin as they got closer. Vague shapes threatened from the shadows.

He coiled around his newborn children and gripped the knife as tightly as he could. Despair nearly choked him, thick in his throat. It was hopeless. Still, he would fight… for Luke and Leia.

Boots echoed around him.

He heard his name.

 _His name_.

A crash echoed around the room as one set of footsteps began to run toward him. Anakin growled weakly. The scent of alpha, obscured with the scent of blood and his own weariness, was all he could catch as the man loomed over them.

Hands reached for him — for his pups!

Instinct seized and Anakin snarled, lashing out with the knife. It wasn’t— it wasn’t the right time. The blow was deflected. The blade lost.

He’d wasted the last of his strength.

_He had failed._

“Anakin!”

That tone, that voice…

“Oh, Anakin, dear one, it’s me.” The alpha dropped to his knees next to him and reached again.

He flinched from the hands on his face but the words…

A whine pulled itself from his chest.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes, dearest.” The words were spoken softly. Anakin could almost taste the grief in the air. The tang of it heavy at the back of his throat. As thick as the blood on the floor.

Hands were in his hair and he couldn’t help but close his eyes.

This couldn’t be real.

His mate was fighting a war a thousand light years away from here. There’s no way the Council would have let him— Realization ebbed gently through him; he must have passed after all. Blood loss and exhaustion his company into the Force.

Luke and Leia were warm in his arms, snuffling softly and fussing. His lips curled into a soft smile.

If they were here he didn’t fail. If they were with him, they were safe.

_They were free._

“I didn’t fail.” The words slipped past his lips.

His mate choked next to him. “No, Anakin." The hand was back in his hair. "Of course you didn’t fail.”

He could relax. He could rest.

“M’tired, Obi-Wan.” 

“You can sleep in a minute, dear one.” His mate’s voice was gentle. “Show me what you have first?”

Anakin smiled wearily, “Pups.”

He carefully opened his arms.

Another voice swore nearby and someone knelt down to join them, “General?”

Everything was hazy around the edges when Anakin opened his eyes. He tried to speak again but the words wouldn’t come. The world swam around him.

Reality went dark.


End file.
